


The Sole Night

by BeNearMeWhenMyLightIsLow



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, First Kiss, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Oral Sex, Rimming, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-05-14
Packaged: 2019-04-17 08:02:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14184510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeNearMeWhenMyLightIsLow/pseuds/BeNearMeWhenMyLightIsLow
Summary: There was a sole night between Will getting in Hannibals car and Dolarhyde arriving at the house.Staged during season 3 episode 13 "The Wrath Of The Lamb"





	1. Chapter 1

The car ride is quiet.

Will’s mind is chaos were Hannibal’s calm. Hannibal had the time to plan this after all. A factor that only aids Wills chaos.

He could have died in the accident, they could have died. But when Hannibal walks around with a gun to finish off any unnecessary spectators he leaves Will unharmed.  
He could have tried to stop Hannibal then, he didn’t. It was hardly a conscious decision. But it’s the cataclysm that has brought him here nonetheless.  
The cars have cameras, the deed has been filmed. He was always on thin ice with the FBI, with his conscious.

The ice breaks.

Still he doubts. Watches as Hannibal frees a car from its occupants and steps in. Freezing in ice cold waters when Hannibal starts the motor, leaves. Leaves Will to be alone again.  
His eyes close, his chin falls to his chest, and the breath he holds escapes in a shudder when Hannibal stops beside him.

“Going my Way?” Hannibal’s voice is light and casual. His body language less so. Straining forward to catch Wills eyes. To read his face when Will looks up from the body’s left behind and to what has always been offered to him.

An offering he finally takes.

He knows this is permanent, that he is leaving everything behind. It’s like dying. And as a mind is wont to do in such a situation, his memory’s flitter around in his head. Looking for one that makes sense. One that can help him, save him.  
They are all about Hannibal. The fire that consumes him. Figuratively and, perhaps soon, literally.

Will snorts. His warm breath steaming up the window he was staring out of. He turns away from the blurred world outside to aim his unhinged smile at Hannibal.  
Hannibal's dark eyes find his and he smirks playfully at Will, making Will chuckle out loud. Not from the strangeness of there situation this time but from the realisation that Hannibal is happy right now, and so is he. Hannibal’s smile keeps as he turns back to face the long road home.

 

 

\---------------

 

 

“It’s big.” Will remarks as the car doors close with a final thud.

“Yes.”

“And when he comes?”

Hannibal looks back at Will, his feet crunching along the gravel path to the house.

“We will do what is necessary.”

 _We, not I._ Will thinks. His next thought come to him in Hannibal’s voice. _Save yourself,kill them all._

Hannibal bends down lightly at the door and resurfaces with an old key. Will arches an eyebrow in doubt, signalling his thoughts about such measures of security.  
Hannibal chooses to ignore the look and fits the key in the lock. Once the door opens a soft beeping filters over the sound of rustling trees and songbirds. Efficient fingers type in a complicates code that Will doesn’t catch and the beeping stops.  
This time it’s Will that ignores the pointed look from Hannibal.

“There is time dear Will, I do not expect the Red Dragon to appear today.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“Experience. I dare say I have more insight in the Red Dragon then you Will, despite your many gifts.”

Will snort bitterly as he follows Hannibal through the hall and up the stairs. Hannibal tuts at him over his shoulder.

“You may not always appreciate your gifts Will but they are a part of you and worthy of admiration.”

“Really? How so?” Will grouses, he doesn’t like being tutted at.

“They let you see me, for example.”

Will looks up. He’s halfway up the stairs while Hannibal stands on the landing above him. Behind him a window with stained glass that sheds a dappled pattern of light across the burgundy stairs. The red stains stand out on Hannibal’s white jumpsuit, but they are not what attracts Wills eyes. Hannibal’s face is cast in sharp shadows cheekbones sticking out like bleached bone, his eyes only a glint of reflecting light. It isn’t hard to see the antlers like this, but the true darkness is broken by the dappled light.

It’s an image that would make any normal person back away.  
Will climbs the stairs, not breaking eye contact.  
Hannibal's head tilts slightly, observing him, measuring him, before turning to lead.


	2. Chapter 2

They pass doors with locks on the outside.  
Will notices but doesn’t ask. Doesn’t need to. He knows that this is where Hannibal kept Abigail hidden, trapped. But she isn’t here anymore and he has forgiven Hannibal. There’s no need to rip open old wounds, that is not what he’s here for.

 

They step inside of the bathroom, Will still following, staring at Hannibal.  
The bathroom is stark white. Porcelain bath and sinks. Sharp white light flashes through mirrors and faucets. Everything sterile clean. It reminds Will of a hospital. It even smells like one.

 

He watches how Hannibal opens a white cabinet. The bottles and boxes tinkle as he puts them on the marble top surrounding the sink. Hannibal opens the faucet and plugs the sink when the water starts warming up, trapping a shallow pool of clear water. He motions Will closer.    
Will shuffles closer and doesn’t protest when Hannibal places careful fingers under his chin along his neck.

 

“Apologies Will. I should have done this sooner.” He says while fingers press and nudges along his vertebrae. “Tell me if this brings you any discomfort.”

 

It doesn’t.

 

“Have you experienced any pain during or after the accident?” Hannibal’s hands support him as he angles Wills head this way and that.

 

“No, nothing serious.”

 

Wills eyes slip close when one hand carefully folds around the base of his skull, sliding upwards through his curls.

 

“You were lying on the ground and you have several wounds across your face.” Hannibal states as his fingers search for any blood dampening Wills curls. “You may have a mild concussion. Are you nauseous Will?”

 

“No, and I’m not concussed.”

 

“Ah, but you might be in shock. You do have a tendency to disassociate yourself from unwanted or challenging situations.”

 

“Hannibal.” Will opens his eyes to look into Hannibal’s reddish brown eyes. “I'm right here with you.”

 

The stare holds and Hannibal slowly trails his hands from Wills temple across his stubbled jaw, cataloging the texture. 

“Good.”

 

He wets a cotton ball in the lukewarm water with one hand, the other sliding back to Wills chin to manipulate the way the light hits his face. Light firm swipes take care of the excess blood.

 

Will hisses as the water is replaced by antiseptic that Hannibal presses to his open wounds. A smirk twitches Hannibal’s lips at the sound and Will decides that he doesn’t want to notice it but catalogues it all the same.

 

The water in the sink swirls red under Hannibal’s ministrations and Wills mind dredges up passages from the bible. Jesus turning water into wine, helping the sick and the downtrodden, and later offering his flesh and blood to his disciples. Will feels a smirk lifting his own lips, seems like Hannibal got that last part slightly wrong. He wonderes absently if Hannibal sees him the same way Jesus would have seen Judas.

 

He shakes the thoughts away and concentrates on Hannibal, who is now perfunctionally cleaning up his own few wounds. Perhaps he imagines it but Hannibal’s hands seem to be a little less gentle then they were with Will.  
His conversation with Bedelia comes back to mind, her jealousy and pitty surrounding her view of Will and Hannibal’s relationship. Yet when Hannibal ran away, it was with Bedelia not Will. And in the end she gave him up willingly, pleading innocence in manipulation. If it where not for her intimate knowledge of Hannibal, Jack would have seen her behind bars. But then again, the same may aply to Will.

 

Another Judas.  
With only one great difference between them. While Hannibal has already tested Will under his knife, Bedelia’s test is yet to come.  
That is to say that they survive the Red Dragon of course.

 

Will regards Hannibal’s reflection in the mirror above the red swirls. Still sewn tightly in his person suit. Will wants to break the stitches, tear them lose and look underneath, see which parts stick and which parts reveal the dark and red that is Hannibal unleashed. Blood looking black in the moonlight.

 

Hannibal may have said that he had let Will see him but Will knows full well that he was only allowed to see what was shown to him. If he is to follow the path that Hannibal is leading him on, he will do so with eyes wide open, seeing the whole truth behind the perfectionistic art.

 

If they have but a sole night till the return of the Red Dragon, then this is how Will chooses to spend it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm finding that comments help me to get this story out of my head, so please do not hold back on my account.


	3. Chapter 3

There is still danger here, with or without the Red Dragon.

 

Will’s fingers slide along the blade in his pocket, not sure if he relishes the feel or dreaths it. Not sure about anything right now. The one person who can bring back his clarity is the one who can take it away forever and leave Will under dark ice.

 

“Are you afraid of me Will?”

 

Hannibal’s smooth voice startles Will out of his musing. Eyes meeting in the mirror. Will’s wide and guilty, Hannibal’s warm and mildly amused.

 

“What makes you think that?” Defensive.

 

“You are staring at me rather intendly.” A quirk of Hannibal’s eyebrow to indicate how obvious Will has been. “And I do know how to interpret your body language. What kind of psychiatrist would I be if I couldn’t?”

 

“A lazy one.”

 

“Are you reminiscing Will? Preferring the innocence of obliviousness perhaps.” Hannibal has turned around fully now, eyes sharper, calculating the possibilities. 

 

But Wills sharp wit is still alive and kicking. Besides, challenging Hannibal has always been… interesting.

 

“Blessed be the simple minded, right?” Will shrugs. “Though I’ve always prefered the thirst for knowledge.”

 

“You are far from simple minded Will, though you are blessed.”

 

Will hufs. “Why do you always do that?”

 

“Correct your self-deprecating tendencies?”

 

“No, well… yes that as well.’ Wills hand balls inside his pocket. “Why do you always make it about me.” His yaw is tight, he has to force muscle and bone to let the words escape.

 

“To help you see through the afterimages left by others that so distord you. So you can see yourself Will.” Measured and calm and wholy irritating.

 

“No, that’s not what I meant… You’re doing it again.” Wills hand slips out of his pocket and scrubs through his hair. Briskly turning, taking few steps before the bath and wall block his escape and force him to turn back.

Back to a Hannibal who is closer now. Damn his light feet.

 

There should be a warning for impending danger. Instinct should be kicking in, fight of flight, face to face with a predator.    
There is none of that. Just the pull of calm waters that reflect dappled light. The eye of the storm that he always seems to find in Hannibal’s closeness, captured in his eyes. The ache to trust even after that has been proven dangerous for him in the past.

 

“Why don’t you tell me what  _ you _ want instead of manipulating me until I do exactly that?”

 

“I will not be as rude as to claim that I haven’t ever manipulated you Will, but there were always choices to be made by you, some of which have surprised even me.” He says it with a hint of disdain in his voice and pride in his eyes. “As for what I want, I thought I’d made that clear.”

 

“Not to me.”

 

An unimpressed eyebrow rose without breaking eye contact. “Perhaps you do not truly wish to know what far less observant minds than yours have already uncovered.”

 

“What I truly wish for,” Sarcasm spilling through clenched teeth. “Is clarity. I know your darkness and your light, show me the twilight shadows. Tell me what you want Hannibal.” A demand thinly veiled in desperation.  

**Author's Note:**

> This is an ongoing work.
> 
> I'm open to suggestions, thoughts and comments, though I may not follow up on all of them.
> 
> I will add tags as is neccesary.


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